Lost love

It's long after midnight. One more paper to grade. I take a deep breath and a last swig of cold coffee. The assignment had been to write a story about lost love. My mistake. Seems these students are too young to describe such emotional upheavals convincingly. Or maybe they just don't dare to be honest. Anyway, Isabelle is my last hope. She's the beauty with the little nose ring. Always sits at the front looking wide eyed at me as if she reads my thoughts when I return her gaze. Anyway, usually her writings are not too bad. That's why I always keep her paper for last.

I pick up page 1, "Lost love":

****

"I miss them so terribly.

It seems all so long ago. Even though it's been only a few days, I miss them desperately. So many years have gone. So long ago that I met them. Met them for the first time in their warm living room in their beautiful house. So long ago that I loved them, that Bernhard loved me, that Anouk loved me, that they both loved me. So long ago. They were everything for me. Daddy, mommy, and I their little child. So long ago. It seems all so long ago....

And now it's dark all around me and it's finished. "In the end everything finishes, dear." That's what Bernhard said the other day, when we separated. Everything ends. Every love ends. Even their love for me. And now I lie here on this floor in the dark between others in this barren place, naked and chained, the dirt grating my back. How many are we? I don't even know. Three, four, six, or maybe only two? It's too dark to see. Just soft breathing around me. And a sob once in a while, a whimper. Darkness. Bernhard and Anouk are gone forever. My God, how I miss them! They were always so loving to me. During the nights there was always a small light on the wall next to my blanket on the floor, so I would not be afraid of the dark and know where I am. Up to the very last night. Bernhard and Anouk, you took so good care of me. It was always so nice and warm in your house. Have I ever realized how much we loved each other? I don't know. Not even after all these years.

But I shouldn't balk, shouldn't fret. Bernhard had said so in parting. He's right. As always. I should have no doubts. Must not. I still love them. I hope they are well. Both of them. Also without me. After all those years I must hold on, remember my life with them. I'm sure they also think of me. Maybe even now, this very moment. It's important to think so. And I'll think of them tomorrow too. And maybe that's when they'll also think of me. I hope so. Even if it's only for a moment. And they'll smile. And surely it'll excite them, and they'll furiously make love, just thinking of me. Like in the past. Like during all those years when their passions grew to high peaks because of me, because of my presence. Because I was there for them.

I must remember everything. That's what Anouk said too. It'll make it easier tomorrow. "Remember," she had said, "try to remember how it began all those years ago. It will give you strength, console you." Yes I do remember, Anouk. So very well. Like it was yesterday, not years ago. They were never ending years. Years of love and lustful violence. They were no dream. They were all very real. As real as the harsh reality of this moment, here, in this darkness, between those bodies in the straw. And as real as tomorrow will be.

I still remember it so well, so clearly, that little add of yours. It caught my eyes as if it had been printed in bright colors between those many other black and white lettered personals on my screen. I was still so very naive. Really like a child. As Anouk so often said, "You're like a little vulnerable child to me." Their child. Their virgin. "You'll always remain a virgin, our virgin," she once said, even after they had together kind of deflowered me. And in a sense it was true. Bernhard and Anouk were my papa and mamma, and I have always been their tender love, their little innocent girl. Oh Anouk, I miss you so badly!

I still think of how I called upon you. How I rang your doorbell, that gleaming copper button on your heavy front door. How I still did not know who you were. I had not yet seen Bernhard's eyes. Those beautiful round and sad eyes. Nor known his hands with their long and strong fingers. Nor had I met Anouk, with her lovely smile and her shining hair. Oh, Anouk! Your mouth could kiss so heavenly. Your thighs are so safe, so soft and warm on the inside. When I see your smiling face before my mind's eye, I get all aroused again. How could I possibly have been so fortunate, to be with the two of you for so many years?

"We, Anouk and Bernhard, are a nice married couple, young, rich, powerful and very sadistic. We have everything one would wish for in life. However, we lack a girl that would let herself be used unresistingly by both of us to satisfy all our sexual appetites. We can be lovingly tender and brutally cruel. Requirements: Nice face to look at, intelligent, and a juicy body."

I still know that text by heart. So short. So strong worded. Still remember how my face flushed when I read it. How aroused I was. And how I wrote one long letter after another, to tell you about my lifelong yearnings to donate myself as a plaything to some ruthless master, only to move them to the bin. And how finally I decided to write you back with an even more briefly worded text.

"Dear Anouk and Bernhard. I am a free and available girl. If you promise to really use me you may have me. I am pretty attractive, sexy and sensual, and I would love to be forced to serve your sadistic pleasures."

That's how it really began. Like a dream coming true. Within two days I had your answer. With your questions. Remember? Remember you asked if I had a boyfriend? A boyfriend! Imagine. After all these years with you the word sounds absurd. I never had a 'boyfriend'. Never will. Certainly not now anymore. I couldn't stand a boy who just loves me and cares. I want to be owned. Owned by a fiercely cruel master, to be his pleasure property.

And of course you wanted to know how my body looked. I had not sent you a picture. So I had one made.

When I recall that event my heart drums and I become moist again. That photographer in the little photo shop I entered, who showed me his small studio in the back, how he startled and reddened when I began to bare myself. How half in panic did he close and lock the door of his shop and drew its curtain. How he trembled watching me undress. How he got all confused seeing my smoothly shaved nakedness. How he almost forgot to take his picture. But how in the end he nevertheless did, shaking his camera, though it came out as a dazzling photo. A beautiful glossy print. When I came to collect it he had me wait until his other customers had left. How he blushed like fire when he handed it to me and how he had wanted no money. And how he suddenly became all rigid and pulled me down by my hair, pushed me on to the floor, ripped away my panties, and fucked the life out of me. And how, when he left me filled, I kissed him, just to thank him for his kindness, took the print with me and left his shop.

Bernhard and Anouk liked the picture so much they put it up on the wall over the piano. It remained there for a long time.

And your second letter, in response to my picture, with the invitation and the address. The immense relief I felt. I think that was the moment I really took the decision. Yes, that's how it was. A decision like that is like you are suddenly stopped right in the middle of life's racetrack. That's how it felt. A decision like that is not taken. It takes you. So you just go. And from one moment to another you are changed from a free and thinking human being to a brainless piece of livestock, a servile body for Bernhard and Anouk to play with when they feel like it. That's how it was. And there's never ever been any regret. In all my life I've never felt so sheltered, so happy and so content as I've been in those years.

All those years. All those years of sleeping in the hallway. On my big soft blanket, Bernard and Anouk, on the floor behind your bedroom door. Always naked and chained to my dog collar with its little tag, bearing your name and address. Years of eating from a bowl on the floor, my hands unused, my breasts brushing your dining room carpet, and the two of you smiling down at the sight while enjoying your dinner, whether alone or together with guests. Years at your feet, Anouk and Bernhard, at your busy feet. Always available. Always nude and always ready for use. Ready for your games of teases and tortures, meant to juice me up to be fucked, meant as foreplay when you fuck each other, or meant as amusement for your guests. Games with my arms and legs spread helplessly, tied to the trees in your garden or to those four carved wooden posts of your bed. Those were years of wild passion for all three of us. Years of ceding my body to your endless sadistic cravings. Years of slapping my face, which you liked so much Anouk. Years of braking my shame, of having me taste the horrible bite of your whips. Years of being flayed and fucked. Fucked and fucked. Fucked by you Bernhard, fucked by you Anouk. Fucked by both of you, separately and together, and even fucked by some of your friends. I've been fucked to shreds.

Those were years of intense, inciting and provocative lust. And then suddenly there is Minette. Minette, the girl who is so much younger and smaller than I am. Minette with her wide hips that move so sensually. Minette, your new pussycat. Your little kitten with its small breasts, smaller than mine, but with large suckable nipples. With lush and wild dark hair, small white fearsome teeth and dangerously sharp nails. Minette, always on all fours, like a real pet, with her earthenware eating bowl adorned with colorful flowers, lapping milk from a saucer. Minette who purrs like a real pussy when you suck and screw her. Minette who screams more ear-splitting that I can, when she's used and fucked by your guests. Minette, who has taken my place.

Bernhard and Anouk, where are you?! I miss you so very badly. It's only yesterday when you said good-bye. And it began only last week. That horrible afternoon. When you both came to my blanket to tell me that lately I had become less fun to play with. That that was why you had obtained Minette. That I had grown out of being their little girl. That between my legs I had lost my tightness, worn out as I was by Anouk's toys and Bernhard's pleasure rod. That I orgasm too easily when beaten. That you don't like the smell and taste of my body as much as you used to. That my breasts, my nipples, my behind, my haunches, have lost their freshness and hold no more secrets. That my voice has grown so frayed that when you land your whips on me I don't even scream loud enough for you to really enjoy. And that because of all this you were gradually loosing your interest in me. And I cried when, in the end, you said you had decided to dispose of me, to sell me. My tears must have aroused you, because afterwards you obviously needed to fuck, drawing Minette on her leash straight away into your bedroom.

Bernard, I can still feel your closeness when you crouched on my blanket, to bring me that horrible news. I can still hear your voice speaking those cruel words. As if trying to console me you said that you found it a charming idea, to have me auctioned. That way I would still be of some value, as you would get money for me. And you, Anouk, had laughed and assured me you didn't really need any money, so I shouldn't worry about how much I would bring in. You would spend it on a present for Minette. Maybe a very special leash. To remember me by. And you added that Minette would be given my blanket, so she needed not to lie anymore on the kitchen floor. It made me cry heavily again, although you both seemed to try and be nice to me, saying that in time you would sell Minette too. Or maybe swap her for a boy. Because Anouk would like that. Anouk had blushed when Bernhard had said that, and she doesn't blush easily.

But your words brought no relief. I felt wretched and useless for the first time in my life with you. You mentioned having considered freeing me, although you knew I did not want to. Which of course is true. Freedom from bondage has become unthinkable. It holds no attraction. The utter loneliness that would await me in that dark and foreign land, would have me fall apart. So I knew I had no option, no other future. And as you said when trying to lift my spirits, I might still be usable for someone else's pleasures. Thus, with tears in my eyes and dizzy with sorrow, I conceded.

But it was horror to be auctioned. How awful had it been. Only yesterday. All those visitors walking around, considering me and the others on exhibit. Nude bodies of women, boys and girls hanging on the walls from their wrists, most of them still young, just out of their youth.

Hanging like that, the tearing pain in my wrists and armpits was terrible. And the visitors judging my body and flesh were terrifying, touching my breasts, inspecting the health of my teeth, then opening my legs to see the funnel of my femininity and the annex hole of my behind. How much Bernhard and Anouk had been right. They all thought I had been used too much, fucked too much in all my openings. It was horrible to watch them crowd around the younger bodies, those still fresh and usable naked boys and girls. Some of the girls on those walls cried when touched, and some of the boys screamed. But I think they should have been proud in stead. Proud to be talked about in terms of sexual attraction and large sums of money. They would sell well.

How much I hoped that you, my beloved Anouk and Bernhard, would at least be present among those visitors. If only to console me with your smiles. But you were not. Only strangers, people who often did not even consider to buy me. Mostly well dressed men and women with their friends or spouses, happily chatting and laughing merrily. Some couples had even brought their little children, holding them trustfully by their little hands, patiently bending down to answer their large eyed questions, pointing things out on the naked bodies before them, explaining, and hinting at possibilities. It must have been quite an event for them. It's not often that boys and girls are auctioned.

In the end nobody even put a bid on me. It was awful. I was left hanging, the last one. I couldn't hold out any further. Everything became dark and gray before my eyes. I would have agreed to anything just to stop the pain in my strained arms. But it turned out that in the end I was still bought. I don't know my price, but it couldn't have been much because there was only one buyer. I vaguely remember an old man with a moustache sporting a green jacket and black riding boots. I'm not sure though. Everything had blackened out.

Later, after they had revived me, I suddenly saw Anouk and Bernhard talking in the corner of the room. When they turned to me my heart jumped wildly. But they had only come to collect their check. Nevertheless I was so happy to see them, even if only briefly, that I cried. They told me that the man with the moustache had indeed bought me. Not for himself, but for his employer, a man of nobility, who owned a big mansion on a huge domain in the country. They told me to be strong. But nevertheless I screamed in terror when they informed me why I had been purchased. Bernhard and Anouk, each in their own kind way, tried to calm and console me, petting my hair, softly stroking my breasts, talking quietly to me with their lovely faces. The kind of things that usually calm me down. They said that I should not be unhappy with my destiny. That there wouldn't be much other use for me anyway, and in this way I would still provide for some real sadistic pleasures. And Anouk urged me to remember that my strongest aphrodisiac is to know the horrors planned for me. Bernard too, looking at me with his beautiful eyes, reminded me of my most arousing fetish: my inescapability from what's going to be done to me. And wouldn't this be a really ultimate experience? Anouk even confessed that the idea had made her moist and horny. And Bernhard promised that the two of them would celebrate my fate, using Minette to party upon. Thus, at least, they consoled me a little.

But nevertheless, parting from them was terrible. They had been so sweet and soothing. I couldn't let go and I seized Bernhard by his trousers and clamped myself on to Anouk. And of course I cried violently. I can still feel the echo's sobbing in my breast. My mind still sees Anouk's lovely smiling face and Bernhard's sad eyes, so dear to me. My heart is torn. My eyes are raw from crying.

But they are dry now. I must be brave. I promised them. That's how we parted. I will be courageous. Here in the dark, where it smells like in a stable, and also tomorrow, when there'll be fresh air.

I wonder what will they look like, the woody lands around that mansion. Dense with trees and brushes, I guess, and full of hiding places. As a child I've once been in a big forest. It had been frightening, the silence, the lost paths, the layers of rotting leaves and pine needles, the pools of mud, the humid mushroom soil. But I've never felt the dirt and dust under my bare feet, like I will tomorrow. How does moss feel, and dry dead branches when you step on them? Will it hurt? And how cold will it be to walk around naked? Or maybe it'll be warm. Hot from fear and excitement. I don't know. My stomach cramps. For the first time the anticipation of what tomorrow will bring awakens some butterflies deep down in my belly. Slowly the prospect of the inevitable obtains the colors of arousal.

I notice the warmth of another body moving close to me. It causes the vivid images of Bernhard and Anouk to fade. A hand pulls on the heavy chain attached to the iron collar they put around my throat. I tense up. But then my tout belly is caressed, which helps those little butterflies and it fires those habitual sparks of arousal. I grope around and feel a shoulder, a chest. It's a man. He puts his head on my breast. He's softly sobbing. I take him in my arms. He is naked too, and thin as a rake, almost still a boy. And chained as well. I sooth him in this darkness, gently stroking his nakedness. I can sense his fear. But it calms him. Suddenly he crawls over me, pulling the chain around his neck with him across my body, and pushing my thighs apart. And without waiting he bluntly forces himself into me. His member is long and bony but much too thin to pleasure my worn out love mouth. I barely feel it enter me. The only thing I feel is his belly hitting mine and his hands clawing my breasts until they hurt. One crude thrust and already he climaxes, spurting wetness inside me. What remains is just some warm breathing close to my face and then he falls aside me, silently, back into the darkness, his chain slipping from my body. I feel abused and used in a very poor way. But then I try to imagine how this hapless boy's semen now fills my womb, so mercilessly vacated by the only loves in my life. That strangely helps. I feel less abandoned, stronger.

For a while I rest my head in the dirt on the hard floor and stare into the darkness, trying to regulate my breathing, watching this dark nothingness. Then, carefully, I try to move around, the sand and straw prickling my bare skin. How big is this place? The chain linked to my throat clanks softly. There is a shuffling sound. Somewhere to my left. Another neighbor? I move again and touch a body. A warm body. A soft body. Carefully I move my fingers, discovering the shivering flesh of a woman. There is a hand. She touches my face. It brings back my butterflies. I crouch up, crawl closer and lower my head on hers. We kiss in silence, our chains mingling. Her eyes feel wet. She must have been crying too. I kiss them, stroking the metal band around her throat. It arouses me to know she's chained as well. She too begins to breath heavily. Neither of us speaks. It all happens in silence. I embrace her and she pulls me over. Heaving myself, I lower my breasts to where her face must be. Immediately my nipples are strongly sucked. That feels good. My chain sways as my arousal climbs and I shiver. In the darkness I make believe it's Anouk's loving mouth that drains my juices. Finally the woman unlocks my nipples and kisses my imprisoned throat. Then her wet tongue slides back to my mouth. While I kiss her back with fresh ardor I begin to think of tomorrow with new pangs of desire. And I realize that my fears have now fully inflamed my excitement, to the point of becoming impatient for tomorrow. Too much waiting still before they'll let us out. I'm now longing for what will happen. That's what this woman below me does with me. It's a beautiful feeling. I'm filled with a delightful sense of purpose and excitement, strong and full of energy. Anouk and Bernhard are in my heart. For a moment I can see their smiling faces before me.